The First Excellence: Fa-Ling's Map (31 page)

“
Special Agent Ho,” she began, “given the nature of this crime, I’m sure many viewers will be curious as to why the Ministry of State Security has stepped into the investigation. Can you tell us why your department is involved in this case?”

Yi adopted his most serious expression.

“
We have reason to believe,” he said, “there is an International element to this situation. These murders may be related to a drug ring from America that has been operating in Shanghai for the past year. We are currently reviewing correspondence that took place between one of the victims and a person or persons from America to determine whether there is a connection.”

There was a sudden disturbance near the entrance of the building as the third and final victim was wheeled out. The cameraman noticed it first, turning his lens away from Jan Jian and toward the lobby door. The ‘paramedics’, who were really Ministry agents, paused as they had been coached to do, allowing the throng to digest the fact the third body was, in fact, not quite dead. The so-called ‘third victim’ on the gurney was really a Ministry rookie in disguise, his face carefully covered with fake bruises and dried blood and partially obscured by the bedclothes.

The agents quickly wheeled the young man toward the second ambulance and tucked him safely inside. Earlier, before the news crews had arrived on the scene, the body of the real Tan Dahui had been spirited out the rear door of the building by ministry agents.

“
What’s gong on?” the reporter said, as sirens were activated and the vehicle pulled away from the building. “Agent Ho, can you tell us what is happening?”

“
I’ll find out,” Yi said. He strode toward the fake medical crew, conferring momentarily with a ‘paramedic’. He returned just as the reporter was guiding her cameraman toward him, trying to get her microphone close enough to overhear the conversation.

“
It seems,” he said, “one of the victims of this crime, the younger male, has survived. Our first assessment showed no vital signs, but soon afterward we realised he was only weak from loss of blood and trauma, having taken a bullet to the head. Once medics discovered he was alive, they took immediate steps to revive him. At the moment, I have been told the youngest victim, believed to be Tan Dahui, is in critical but stable condition. It is hoped we have arrived on the scene in time to save his life.”

“
Has he spoken, Agent Ho? Can he identify his family’s killer?”

“
I have no more information at this time,” Yi said. “Please excuse me.” Yi turned away, mentally taking a bow for what he was certain had been an award-winning performance. In fact, it was most unfortunate he did not have an uncle in the movie business, Yi thought.

“
Agent Ho, wait!” the reporter said, following him.

“
No further comment,” Yi said, climbing into the backseat of the polished black sedan beside his Uncle Ho Lon-shi. Before the cameraman could get a clear shot of either man, the car door was shut, hiding their faces behind the dark tinted glass of its window.

Frustrated, reporter Jan Jian fixed her expression and turned toward the camera. She could smell a set-up, and this was about the most obvious one she had ever encountered. Nevertheless, true or not, it
was
a great story. It would give her headlines for days, especially if she could convince young Agent Ho Lon-Yi to join her for a little ‘off-the-record’ conversation.

Meanwhile, there was plenty of activity at the front of the building, where the other ambulance containing the two dead bodies was still parked. The crowd had not yet begun to thin around a handful of minor officials. Jan motioned for her cameraman to follow and made her way into the thick of the action. If a girl was persistent, there was always
someone
who was conceited or stupid enough to spout off in front of a news camera.

**

Jiu climbed into the car and motioned for Ng-zhi to start the engine. He was pleased with the way his production had unfolded. It didn’t matter in the least that he would never be given credit for the idea. Everyone knew full well it was Jiu, not Yi, who had formulated the plan.

Nothing had been left to chance. Every medic, every driver, every official on the scene was a plant, an agent from the Ministry. There would be no ‘loose lips’ to worry about, no unrehearsed comments for the press.

To stick around any longer, especially as the crowd began to disperse, would put Jiu and Ng-zhi at risk of being caught by the camera. The remaining ‘medics’ would feed the essential information to Jan Jian of the State News Agency — Tan Dahui’s shaky but positive prognosis for recovery, and the name and location of the hospital where he would be treated.

It was only a matter of time, Jiu thought, before Tan Shopei climbed out of whatever woodpile she was currently hiding in. No sister could resist visiting a brother who was in Dahui’s ‘condition’.

Reaching Sun by telephone was not an easy task. There could be no traceable ties between the high level official and the Underground operation. In fact, although Long was one of only a few individuals in the operation who knew the Minister personally, he had never been given a contact number for Sun, and would not have been able to quote one to save his own life.

When he needed to reach Minister Sun, he called a third-party number, which set in motion a chain of contacts that eventually made its way to the bureaucrat’s cell phone. The process normally took around thirty minutes, depending upon Sun’s availability.

When Sun received the message, its coded content would tell him which operator needed to speak with him. Then he would make his way to a public phone and place his call from there.

Minister Sun was enjoying dinner with his wife, their friend Lee the minor official, and their new acquaintance Randy Chan, when the cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He excused himself from the table to take the call. On learning it was a message from Master Long, Sun thought the old man must be calling to secure travel documents for Tan Shopei. He was surprised to learn the real reason for Long’s call.

“
It’s all over the news,” Long said. “They are saying Lim’s son Dahui is still alive. Shopei is beginning to doubt her previous judgement. I reminded her she was there, that she had seen for herself Dahui was dead, but now she is no longer sure.”

“
That’s understandable,” Sun said. “It’s natural to hope for the best. Have you reasoned with her?”

“
I’ve told her the chances that Dahui survived such an attack are slim. Apparently the Ministry of State Security is involved in the investigation, which is in itself evidence of duplicity. They are claiming to be in pursuit of an International drug ring. When we were watching the news on my kitchen television, the reporter, Jan Jian, was interviewing an Agent by the name of Ho Lon-Yi. Shopei is not certain, but she may recognise Agent Ho as one of the men who left Tan’s apartment that day.”

“
I’ve seen your tiny black and white TV, my friend. I’m surprised Shopei could tell the agent was a man, much less recognise him. When will you let me bring you a real TV? Maybe one of the new big screen plasma jobs?”

“
Sun, you are kind, but you know my policy.”

“
Only too well: Own nothing of value, and no one will ever wish to rob you. A wise policy, Master Long, especially in our line of work.”

“
It would not do for a burglar to happen upon one of our patients, would it?”

Sun did not reply. The answer was obvious.

“
What course of action is Shopei considering?” Sun asked.

“
She is most anxious to see for herself whether her brother is alive,” Long said. “I convinced her to wait until we heard from you before rushing off to the hospital.”

“
We will have to send an operator in. I’ll call one of our best. If she is apprehended, she can claim to be a friend of the family. She can establish for us whether the ‘survivor’ is really Dahui, and whether a rescue attempt is warranted.”

“
I anticipated your suggestion and spoke with Shopei. She is reluctant to send a third party into a dangerous situation. She says her life is no more valuable than anyone else’s. She argues she can go to the hospital herself, as our operator.”

“
While her intentions are noble,” Sun said, “her offer is not feasible. She lacks the experience to deal with Ministry agents. It is settled. I will arrange for one of our people to go to the hospital immediately. I will call you in the morning with a report.”

“
Thank you, my friend.”

Fa-ling opened her eyes. She was still tired, having crawled into bed late after returning from Guilin. Sleep had been slow in arriving, between the effects of jet lag and the disturbing memories stirred up by her visit to the Sunshine Rooster Home for Orphaned Children. Before she reached full consciousness, she was aware of a raw ache in her psyche and tension in her jaw. She’d been grinding her teeth in her sleep again, something she hadn’t done in years.

She rubbed her left arm briskly. Then she rolled over and looked at the time.

Seven o’clock! She was due to meet Detective Wang Yong-qi in the hotel restaurant in half an hour. She barely had time to shower and dress, and would have to skip her morning T’Ai Chi ritual altogether.

This might be her only opportunity to spend time with the detective. The group had one more day of sightseeing planned, and would leave for Beijing at the end of the week.

Fa-ling had no use for games. When she liked a man, she was honest about her feelings. She expected to receive the same candour in return.

Fa-ling hoped Detective Wang might be worth getting to know.

She leapt out of bed and rushed through her shower. The day was still young and fresh. She opted to wear her hair loose, allowing it to fall down her back. She could always pull it into a ponytail later, when the temperature began to rise.

She scrubbed her teeth and pulled on her jeans, choosing an ivory coloured peasant blouse with tiny roses her mother had embroidered onto the neckline. The sheer cotton fabric had rumpled in her suitcase, but Fa-ling gave it a shake and decided it was acceptable. The casual, elegant effect was exotic against her golden skin.

She arrived at the restaurant only five minutes late. The Kitchener family was seated at their usual table. Fa-ling hastily chose a table for two on the other side of the room. She ordered coffee and settled herself with a book, hoping to ward off potential invitations from any of her fellow travellers.

She tried to focus on
Crime And Punishment
, but the crafted sentences swam in front of her face. Feeling like a fool, she resolved to stop watching for Wang, plunging into the angst-filled narrative.

Two paragraphs into the chapter, she became aware of a presence approaching.
Don’t look up,
she told herself.
It isn’t him.

But it was Wang, and she looked up from her book to find him standing at the table, hands in the pockets of his blue jeans, trying to look cool. He was betrayed, though, by his wide smile.

“
Good morning, Detective Wang,” she said in Cantonese.

“
Please, call me Yong-qi.”

“
Very well, Yong-qi. You must call me Fa-ling. Would you care to join me?”

“
I think I will,” he said, motioning to the waitress to bring a second cup of coffee.

“
Do you prefer to speak in Cantonese or English?” she asked.

“
Your Cantonese is perfect,” he said, “but I need to practice my English. Do you mind?”

“
Not at all.” She sipped coffee, suddenly unsure what to say to him. As long as they were speaking in Cantonese, she could enjoy a sense of being outside of herself, an actress on a stage, seeking adventure without consequence. Once she reverted to English she was forced to recognise the reality of the circumstances, her flirtation with the potentially dangerous detective, and her own youthful desire.

What was the appropriate etiquette? Was she expected to give Yong-qi some sign she found him attractive? Or was it best to be coy, to let him blunder his way through the mixture of nervousness and lust that filled the space between them?

Mistaking her silence for disinterest, he decided on what he thought would be a safe topic of conversation.

“
I understand you travelled to Guilin yesterday. How did you enjoy the journey?”

“
It was difficult,” she said. “I had a good driver, so we managed to get there and back without incident.”

“
That’s good,” he said. “It is beautiful country.”

“
Yes, very. Is your partner, Detective Cheng, well?”

Yong-qi blushed, confused by her obvious change of subject. He had only meant to show interest, but clearly he had tripped upon something that was not his business.

“
Yes,” he said. “Cheng is well.”

The silence hung between them for an awkward moment. He was unsure how to begin again, and she seemed reluctant to guide him. Finally she smiled, meeting his eyes.

“
Let’s get some breakfast,” she said. “Shall we try the buffet?”

“
Great idea.” There was nothing like food to ease tension. The act of breaking bread together was the best cure for distance.

“
Tell me about yourself,” she said when they were seated once again. “Why did someone of your education decide to go into law enforcement?”